


Highland Academy

by wraisedbywolves



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Early mornings at Wayne Manor, Gen, High School, Slice of Life, adding tags as they come up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-10 19:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7858789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraisedbywolves/pseuds/wraisedbywolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duke is getting ready to start at his latest school. Now that he's living at the manor, it only makes sense that he would join Tim at a much more prestigious high school than the last one, but he's not sure how comfortable he is with the change of scenery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Duke had put in appearances at five different schools in six months, but Highland Academy was going to be his first one with a real live starched-shirt uniform. A few of the inner city public schools had basic keep-the-kids-out-of-gang-colors uniforms, but those were never more than a plain polo and a pair of khakis. Highland, on the other hand…

There was a goddamn navy blazer with a goddamn  _ crest _ just below the lapel. 

When Mr. Wayne--Bruce?--had asked whether he’d prefer to stay at Gotham County or move to Tim’s school, he couldn’t have agreed to the transfer fast enough. He hated Gotham County, and despite the bump his reputation had gotten after the mess at Middletown most of the school didn’t like Duke much either. He could keep in touch with his friends without going to school together--half of them weren’t even in school most of the time. Transferring out of the city and getting a clean start, even at some posh private school, sounded like the best option without a doubt.

He was starting to doubt a little bit as he examined the uniform in the mirror.

He had done well in school back before everything went wrong, before his parents ended up in the hospital and before he started picking fights and getting suspended. He knew he was perfectly capable of applying himself, but something about the stiff shirt collar and shined up shoes made him feel like an imposter of the highest order. He didn’t feel rich or popular or  _ special _ enough, no matter what the elegant room in which he stored his things might suggest. He couldn’t even seem to tie his green plaid tie straight, and pulled it off again with a frustrated growl as it turned out angled slightly to the left. He almost considered telling Bruce he’d changed his mind, that he’d rather go back to Gotham County and deal with things himself, but Duke wasn’t the sort of person who backed down from a challenge. It was up to him to  _ prove _ that he did belong with the best of the best, that he could hold his own.

His train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Master Duke?” Alfred called from the other side. “We’ll be leaving in approximately half an hour. What would you like for breakfast?”

“Uh, I’ll have, um, whatever.,” Duke called, fumbling to re-tie his tie. “Cereal, toast, anything. I’ll be down in a minute.”

\---

Downstairs, he found Alfred setting a place at the end of the counter for him with a stack of toast, a bowl of cereal, and a plate of eggs for good measure. Cass and Damian were already sitting on the next two stools over, the former in her pajamas and enjoying a stack of pancakes and the latter picking at his own plate of toast while frowning darkly at a copy of the  _ Financial Times _ . Every third bite of toast went surreptitiously to Titus, who was trying very hard to conceal himself under Damian’s stool. Damian was in his own uniform, a white shirt with a red tie, but the middle school didn’t call for blazers. Alfred looked up and beamed at Duke.

“Ah, excellent timing,” said Alfred as he indicated the new place setting. “I trust you found everything in the wardrobe without any trouble? If you need alterations made to anything, please don’t hesitate to notify me.”

“No, everything’s great. Thanks,” Duke flashed him a quick smile, then sat down and grabbed a fork. Damian didn’t look up from his paper, but Cass smiled at him and waved good morning. 

Duke wondered how they managed their nightly patrols on top of getting up early, but suspected after a moment of consideration that Cass was getting ready to go to bed instead of getting up for the day. She had opted for tutoring with Alfred rather than trying to catch up with the system, and as a result could set her own schedule. She was obviously smart--Duke suspected that an unreasonably high IQ was the main requirement to join the ‘family’--but her language skills were a work in progress and she had admitted quietly to him a few days earlier that she wasn’t sure what to do around groups of kids. The thought made her uncomfortable. 

“You appear to be a much more satisfactory addition to this household than Drake,” Damian announced after several minutes of silence, his eyes still locked on the paper in front of him.

Duke looked up with a bemused smile. “Uh, thank you? I guess?”

“Drake is a source of constant irritation,” Damian continued, “And never ceases to meddle in business which is not his own because he believes that he is superior to others. I hope you will endeavor not to emulate his bad habits.”

Duke thought that sounded rich, coming from the same kid who had informed him haughtily that Robin did not say ‘hi’ the first time they met. Cass rolled her eyes and shoved Damian’s shoulder. 

Duke had finished his breakfast and was putting his plate in the sink when Tim finally emerged from his room. He was dressed in the same uniform as Duke, but every part of it looked like it had been at the bottom of a pile of clothes for several days. Tim shambled into the kitchen and grabbed the coffee pot without a word, then retreated again with the whole thing. Alfred sighed and extracted a packet of pop-tarts from a cabinet before announcing that the boys had five more minutes to gather their things. Damian hopped off his stool and folded the paper neatly, then quickly handed his last two pieces of toast to Titus while Alfred was busy putting the coffee maker away.

Alfred did manage to herd all three boys into the car on time, only rolling his eyes slightly as he forced the pop-tarts into Tim's hand. Bruce and Cass stood at the front door to see them off. Duke was fairly sure they were making a fuss for his sake--even Batman had to sleep sometimes, and probably didn’t make a habit of personally sending everyone off to school on a daily basis. 

He found that he appreciated the gesture anyways.


	2. Chapter 2

Highland Academy was perched atop a hill a few miles outside of Gotham. The grounds spread out around it in a neat grid of gardens, walking paths, and sports fields, all wrapped up in the lazy curl of the road that led to the main entrance. Gotham itself was visible in the bay below, just far enough away to keep the grime and grit of the city out of sight and out of mind. Duke couldn’t help feeling a bit apprehensive as he looked up at the ornate Queen Anne exterior of the main building. He knew that accepting the invitation to move into the manor and change schools would bring a bit of culture shock, but he had been trying not to think of how totally alien the world of Gotham’s elite really was from the city he’d known all his life.

The car pulled to a smooth stop at the front steps, and Alfred turned to smile warmly at him while Tim, who had been silently typing on his phone for the whole drive, grabbed his bag and pop-tarts.

“Master Duke, I do hope you’ll find your first day somewhat less overwhelming than you imagine,” said Alfred, a hint of gentle amusement twinkling in the corner of his eye. “I suspect you’ll find that you have rather more allies here than you realized. I shall return to pick you up at 3:10.”

Duke flashed him a quick, slightly nervous grin and thanked him, then grabbed his own bag and climbed out of the car. Tim came around from the far side, finally looking around as though he was aware of his surroundings, and smiled.

“Sorry, just wrapping up some business with the new base downtown,” he said, gesturing with his phone, “Jason keeps saying there’s a problem with security, but I think he’s just giving me a hard time.” Duke hadn’t even thought Tim was fully awake yet, and the dark circles under Tim’s eyes had been backing him up until that moment. 

“Oh. That… does kinda sound like something he would do,” Duke admitted. “I mean, not that I know him that well--”

“Trust your instincts,” said Tim, rolling his eyes as he grabbed a pop-tart out of the packet and started up the steps. “But hey, let’s get you to the head office. There’s probably a lot of boring enrollment paperwork to do, but hopefully I’ll see you at lunch.”

 

\---

 

As Tim had predicted, the first part of Duke’s day was taken up entirely by enrollment processes. He filled out pages and pages of paperwork, including several that already had Bruce’s signature on them, then got a tour of the building from a woman in the guidance counselor's office. She enthused about the various extra-curricular programs offered at the school, none of which Duke imagined he would have time for in light of his new ‘job,’ and the process by which he could apply for more advanced classes if he wanted to for the next semester. 

By the time he left the head office, a schedule in one hand and assurances that the dining hall was ‘just down that hall and to the left’ ringing in his ears, he was so bored with the whole process that even the dry lectures scheduled for his afternoon classes sounded fun and exciting. On top of the boredom, he was sick of the curious, guarded glances from the office staff. At first he’d thought he was being paranoid, but once he stepped out into the hallway he knew he had been right; if he wasn’t the only black kid at Highland, there couldn’t be more than two or three others. He was uncomfortably aware of eyes following him down the hall as he looked for some kind of placard to indicate that he was going the right direction. 

The main building was almost as large as his last school, but the student body was less than a quarter of the size. Instead of the crowded, frantic rush between classes he had braced for, students walked calmly in twos and threes from one class to the next, chatting and stopping at their lockers like there was no need to hurry at all. The bells between classes were spaced further apart, and had none of the grating buzz over the speakers that had always characterized class changes before. He had been amazed to hear that there was only one lunch period for the entire school; everyone who stayed on campus for lunch could fit in a single dining hall without trouble. 

Fortunately, the general flow of traffic led him to the dining hall in question even though he never did find a sign to indicate the direction. Here, at last, he found something reasonably familiar.

Once he had his lunch in hand--the food was obviously better than he’d come to expect from a school, but the options were still limited--he looked around for a table. Just like in the office, he found people looking at him, but quickly glancing away when they realized he’d caught them at it. He’d endured plenty of awkward first days and tried not to let it bother him too much. He had kind of figured he’d be eating alone, but it still stung. They knew he didn’t really belong.

“Hey, Duke!” called a voice off to his left. “Over here!”

He turned to find Tim waving at him from a table on the edge of the room. A blond girl sat next to him, turning to smile widely at Duke, and a timid looking boy on her other side waved as well. Duke smiled, relieved, and crossed the cafeteria to join them.

He still wasn’t entirely sure whether or not Tim genuinely liked him. For all that they were the same age, Tim seemed to operate in a completely different world. He was never without his phone or a laptop, constantly typing or checking various graphs and charts. He knew Tim kept an eye on the security feeds from the many Wayne buildings on top of whatever else he was doing, and that he stayed up even later than the rest of his nocturnal household to continue working. It seemed like the only time he disconnected completely from his tech was out on patrol, and even then only if things were busy enough. 

Despite this impression of aloofness, the smile on Tim’s face as Duke set his tray down was genuine. Duke sat down and nodded to the other two kids at the table. He was fairly confident that he didn’t recognize either one, but in the rapidly expanding world of capes and masks it was hard to be sure of that.

“Duke, this is Steph,” said Tim, gesturing to the girl beside him. She smiled and waved from across the table, already halfway through her lunch and in possession of two extra pudding cups. Duke thought that maybe he had been wrong--there was something familiar about the way she moved. 

“And this is Cullen,” Tim continued, this time nodding to indicate the other boy who bobbed his head and flashed a quick smile. He was about Tim’s height, but sat with his shoulders rolled forward as though to make himself smaller. Duke might not have seen him before, but he recognized the look of wariness he wore without a doubt. He’d be willing to bet money that the kid was another recent transfer, and that bullies had pushed him out of his last school.

“Nice to meet you both,” said Duke, picking up his fork. 

“So, first day, huh?” asked Steph, cocking her head slightly to the side. “They take  _ ages _ with all that paperwork, right? I only started here last month,” she explained. “Welcome to Bruce Wayne’s island of misfit kids and mid-semester transfers.”

Duke snorted and started in on his lunch, but Cullen’s posture stiffened slightly as the bridge of his nose took on a pinkish flush. 

“Hey, I won a legitimate scholarship!” Cullen protested, and Steph laughed.

“I know, I know! I read your essay,” she agreed, still grinning. “But come on, we all know what the common thread is here.”

They quickly launched into an energetic debate about whether Bruce himself actually looked at Wayne Foundation scholarship applications, and Duke let the words flow over him. It was so… normal. They might suit up to go to war under the cover of darkness--watching Steph he was more and more sure of that--but they were still just kids. He might not know them well, but it was a relief to find that his strange new life brought allies in civilian life and not just during patrol. It felt good to know that somebody had his back.


	3. Chapter 3

Duke had been right about the boring lectures on his schedule, but he found that he didn’t mind them so much. He had compared his schedule with everyone else’s before leaving lunch, and found that while he only had one class with Tim--first period, Physics--he had one class before lunch and one at the end of the day with Steph, and was in the same afternoon study hall as Cullen. After lunch he had Honors World History, and thanked the professor at the end of class for letting him have copies of the powerpoint so that he could catch up before the next quiz. 

During study hall, he found Cullen holed up in the last row, his posture so timid and compact that Duke almost didn’t recognize him. When Cullen spotted him he brightened up immediately and invited Duke to sit next to him--if he wanted to, of course, Cullen rushed to explain, he didn’t have to--but still seemed guarded until everyone had found a seat and their buffer zone of several empty chairs remained intact. 

Duke watched Cullen out of the corner of his eye as they both shuffled through their bags for homework to do. He saw the same thing he had during lunch; Cullen had a way of holding himself that seemed to intentionally deflect interest whenever other people were around. Despite his instinctive caution, once the room had settled and it was clear that he was going to be left alone Cullen straightened up.

“You’re from the city, right? I mean, like, actually in the city. Not out here,” Cullen asked quietly, although he kept his eyes trained carefully on the notebook in front of him.

“Yeah. Bell Towers, Davis Avenue on the F train,” said Duke. Cullen smiled.

“West Street on the D56.”

“That’s in the Narrows, isn’t it?”

Cullen glanced off to the side, a hint of nerves showing in the line of his shoulders. “Yup. Born and raised,” he said after a moment.

“Hey man, I’m impressed. Can’t have been easy.”

“We just moved a couple months back--closer to Robinson Square. It’s nice. The ceiling isn’t falling in or anything,” Cullen said with a wry smile.

Duke chuckled. “That does sound nice. So, how is this place? Tim’s a great guy, but he’s obviously… used to this kind of thing. I haven’t even learned my way around that  _ house _ yet.”

Cullen ducked his head and pretended to be writing something as the door behind them opened, but it was just another student coming in late. “It’s… It’s weird, honestly. The hierarchy is different--water polo and lacrosse are the big sports--but all your standard issue high school unpleasantness is intact, with an added layer of privilege. I… try not to draw attention to myself. Everybody knows who the scholarship kids are.”

Duke frowned. Cullen sounded worn down, even though Steph said he’d barely been at the school for two months. He was getting a pretty good idea of what life at Highland was like for those who didn’t turn up with a family crest and a platinum credit card, and he could almost feel himself digging in his metaphorical heels against the injustice of it. He was as good as anyone here, and so was Cullen. Hell, they were definitely both better people than the assholes he’d found himself sitting behind in his history class.

“Well, I’m getting all kinds of weird ninja shit lessons. Somebody makes your life suck, point them out. It wouldn’t be my first detention for fighting,” said Duke, summoning up a grin.

Cullen looked startled for a moment, then matched Duke’s grin. “I’d rather not be in the middle of anything--I still have flashbacks from the time Harper got her nose broken, you should have seen her at school the next day--but I appreciate the offer.”

\---

Thankfully, seventh period American Literature passed quickly.  Steph was in the same class and spent most of the lecture making faces behind her notebook, so Duke had to keep his head down to avoid laughing. He had already been informed that she was a better classmate than Tim. To hear the other two tell it, Tim only appeared in class at all as a formality--Duke suspected that Bruce had some kind of threat on the table to keep him there--and spent the entire day doing surreptitious digital legwork under his desk. Duke had asked during lunch whether any of them had Mr. Morris for Anthropology in the previous semester, and Tim couldn’t actually remember what his teacher’s name had been.

The last bell finally rang, and once again Duke was surprised to find that the student body didn’t sweep through the halls in the rush to escape. Instead, they moved in small groups, paces leisurely, and he felt like they were all watching him as he hurried to his locker so he could get out. The latch on the locker was a bit stiff, and he ended up shoulder-checking the door to shake it open. That drew attention, too. He had felt a bit silly in the uniform first thing in the morning, but by the end of the day he was feeling absolutely strangled by the tie and blazer and couldn’t wait to escape both. The uniform was hot and itchy, and he felt a sore spot under the edge of his jaw where his starched collar had been rubbing all day.

Duke breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped outside and spotted Tim, Steph, and Cullen standing together at the base of the front stairs. At least they seemed just as uncomfortable with the environment as him, even if they did have slightly different reasons for it. He wondered if Tim ever felt like an imposter, but he doubted that. Tim looked fully awake and alive for the first time all day, his phone nowhere in sight as he laughed at something Steph had said. Cullen looked up as Duke came down the stairs, his posture guarded for a split second before he recognized who it was and eased into a smile. 

“So, how was your first day?” Cullen asked

“Well, this has gotta be the whitest school in Gotham but so far I’ve managed to avoid whatever kind of weird rich-kid hazing might be hiding behind all the brick and ivy, so I’ll count that as a win,” said Duke. Steph laughed and nodded.

“I’ve been waiting for something a little more ‘Carrie,’ myself,” she agreed. “But so far it hasn’t been too bad. Just kind of… weird.”

Tim shifted back and forth slightly, looking a little uncomfortable. Duke knew that he’d been in the society pages before Bruce became part of his life, and felt a little bad for complaining. Tim’s shoulders were drawn up defensively, and he frowned.

“It’s not like they’re bad  _ people _ just because they’re well off,” he said, sounding a bit hurt. “Surely this isn’t any worse than any of your other schools,”

“I don’t know,” said Duke with a shrug. “At least when Ricky Muñoz decided he didn’t like me he went straight to the punching part. A couple of fights and everything is settled. Easy. Here, I feel like everybody’s just…  _ waiting _ .”

He almost continued, almost owned up to the feeling that everyone was just looking for proof that he didn’t belong, but he swallowed the bitterness in hopes that he hadn’t gone too far already. He was living at the manor now, and Tim seemed like a mostly good guy. He didn’t want to put his back up and lose the camaraderie they were starting to develop. What would he have left? Duke put a hand on Tim’s shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring way, and smiled.

“You know, never mind. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said. “You’ve been here for ages without any trouble, right?”

Tim laughed nervously, glancing to the side and rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I haven’t had any trouble  _ here _ …”

“Come on Tim, tell us what a delinquent you were at the country club,” said Steph with a roll of her eyes, clearly delighted by the chance to rib Tim.

A pink flush crept up the back of Tim’s neck. “I kind of… got expelled from Greystone for threatening the principal with embezzlement charges.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Duke couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Okay, that’s the kind of story I want to hear about a place like this.”

“It was… a little embarrassing,” Tim argued, still looking uncomfortable. Cullen looked impressed.

“Nah, I’ve seen you work--you’re thorough, I’d have to bet you were right,” said Duke. “So, justice served and all that.”

Tim managed a smile, but whatever else he had to say about the incident was cut off by a shout from the drive out front where parents could pick students up.

“Drake! Cease your foolish time-wasting!” shouted Damian from the back seat of a black Bentley. “Grayson is taking me to the arcade and I will NOT be made late!”

Tim rolled his eyes. “The demon calls. Come on, Duke, we’d better get going,” he said, then turned to Steph and Cullen. “Sure you guys don’t want a ride?”

Cullen flushed slightly and shook his head. “No, no, the bus is fine,” he insisted.

Steph rolled her eyes. “The bus reeks, but I don’t want to get in the same car as the tiny terror either. You two have fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned up a bit short--I thought about putting the next bit in this chapter, but it's a bit of a tonal shift so I'm going to make it the start of Chapter 4 instead


	4. Chapter 4

When they got back to the house, Duke checked his phone and found new texts from both Isabella and Riko. They wanted to know how things were going. He had checked in when he first moved, just to let everybody know he was alright, but hadn’t been in touch for a week. He immediately felt bad about not reaching out sooner; he’d just had so much on his mind. Upstairs, he threw his bag on his bed and shot back the same quick response to both texts.

_New school. Rich kids are weird. Talk later?_

He couldn’t articulate it, but right that moment he didn’t feel much like talking. He changed out of the uniform and checked to make sure the starched collar hadn’t rubbed a sore spot on his neck. He had thought about going into the city earlier in the day, maybe even seeing Isabella, but he found that he was just too far off his game once he was back in the house. He headed downstairs instead, bypassing an argument in the kitchen--something about whether or not Tim should have a cup of coffee at four in the afternoon--and sliding the door behind the clock open to continue further down.

Bruce was still out at a meeting with the Wayne Enterprises board, but the Cave was never fully still or silent. The computers were always humming with one task or another, indicators blinking thoughtfully on and off, and Duke didn’t think he’d ever come down and not seen at least one machine in the lab turned on. The work of vigilantes was never done. There was no one at the main terminal so early, but he did hear the sound of fists meeting leather in the gym and walked that way.

Cass was a blur of motion when Duke stepped through the rough arch in the cave wall that separated the mats and bags and practice dummies from the main chamber. He stopped a few yards back from the edge of the mats to give her plenty of room and just watch for a while. He was no slouch when it came to athletics--he’d tried a few sports before settling on track--but he had quickly realized that Bat-training was on a whole different level and that Cass in particular was a few levels beyond that.

Her training was hard won, and the snippets he’d heard about where it came from were tragic, but there was no denying the impressive the end result. She moved as naturally as breathing, every blow perfectly aimed and behind it all was the most aching sense of _compassion_ Duke had ever encountered. He had watched her sparring with Damian before and seen the way she adjusted to suit the needs of her partner, how she carefully controlled her own speed and strength to make sure she didn’t do any real harm but still presented a sufficient challenge. She fought differently with each opponent, following their lead like a dancer without ever giving ground.

Duke knew she had seen him walk in, but she finished working on the bag before she turned to look at him. She cocked her head to one side as she looked him up and down, then flashed a brief smile and beckoned him over onto the mats. She examined him as he walked, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. When he stopped a yard away she raised her hands into loose fists and tilted her chin slightly, questioning. He shrugged, then hesitated. Finally, after a beat of silence, he nodded and raised his hands as well. Maybe a quick spar would help clear his head.

They worked in silence, Cass matching his pace and managing to point out openings in his stance without exploiting most of them. Duke was a little embarrassed by how easily she found his weaknesses, but there was something soothing about the way Cass fought. He’d seen tapes, he knew she could hold her own nearly anywhere--Dick claimed that she could even beat Batman himself--and yet she didn’t hold that over anyone. She wasn’t trying to _best_ him; she was trying to make him _better_.

After half an hour, they were both panting slightly but Duke found that he was smiling as well. He felt wrung out, not just tired but also left with no room for the tension and uncertainty of the day. He felt better, and Cass seemed to be able to tell. She walked to the edge of the mats and grabbed an extra bottle of water from the cooler, tossing it to Duke as she came back over and sat cross-legged on the mats. Duke caught the bottle and sat down to join her, legs sprawling.

“Thanks, Cass--I didn’t realize I needed that,’ said Duke. Cass smiled and tapped her forehead knowingly.

“I’m starting to think you’ve got the right idea, taking a tutor over the school.”

She considered the statement, then shrugged. “Many… children,” she said, rolling her shoulders inward to mime discomfort. Duke nodded.

“Yeah, and it’s an especially rough bunch--or it is for me. Tim doesn’t seem bothered, but I feel like everybody’s staring at me. Like they’re just waiting for me to screw something up.”

Cass took a drink of her water, still watching him closely. “You… are very good,” she said after a moment, smiling and reaching out to tap the center of his chest. “Here.”

Duke laughed, matching her smile and ducking his head. “Well, I’m glad you think so. Thanks.”

\---

The next two weeks passed without any major incidents at school, but without any particular upswing in Duke’s feelings about it either. He was kept busy with his classes and homework during the day, but still felt like everyone else was just waiting for him to step out of line. There were bright spots, of course; Steph might not take classes very seriously but she was fun to hang around. Cullen made an excellent companion for study hall. Taking Physics with Tim was… less helpful. Tim really was on his phone under the edge of the desk nearly every period, although he somehow knew when quizzes and tests came up despite ignoring the entirety of the lecture.

At lunches, Duke was happy to sit with the three of them. Tim could usually be convinced to put his phone away during lunch, and they argued spiritedly about movies, music, and just about anything else. Tim was talking about possibly starting a Dungeons and Dragons game if he could find the time to play, and invited everyone to join in. That led to a whole new world of debate as Steph insisted that “pet psychic” should be an acceptable class. Duke felt better during lunches, but he was still a bit wary; it was hard to completely convince himself that they weren’t just feeling _obligated_ when so many members of the ‘family’ were still calling him new kid.

Of course, he knew that rationally his own reservations about Tim and Steph were unfounded. They had been nothing but warm towards him, and he felt bad doubting the motives behind it even for a moment. His reluctance to engage with the larger student body of Highland was built on much firmer ground.

At first he’d thought he was just mis-reading people because nothing actually _happened_. He could feel the other students watching him, but when he turned to look they were never saying or doing anything out of the ordinary. The first time he had evidence to suggest that he wasn’t imagining the whole thing came after a Chemistry test; Duke had scored in the top 5% of the class, and almost immediately started to hear grumblings in the hall that he had cheated. He would catch snatches of conversation as he passed by about how ‘someone like that’ couldn’t have gotten such a high score on his own.

The whispers got louder when he came out of an Anthropology quiz with a similarly impressive grade.

Duke decided not to mention the issue to his new friends. He was sure that all of them would be completely outraged on his behalf, but he also felt like it was something he should handle on his own. He didn’t need Tim to defend him to a bunch of snobs; he could take care of himself.

\---

School was always rough, and Duke knew that better than most. Unfortunately, the normal anxieties and stresses of high school were only amplified by the way he was spending his hours outside the school day. Bruce’s training regimen was rigorous and constant; every night, no matter what else might be happening, hours were set aside to address the physical and mental challenges of Duke’s new ‘job.’ He was constantly quizzed on details of the case at hand or possible connections to the pages upon pages of background information he was given on each suspect, and when he wasn’t answering detailed questions he was in the gym.

Bruce was relentless, although not unkind. He seemed uncomfortable with shows of actual emotion but was quick to praise a clever insight, if only in very brief terms, and often closed a combat lesson with a reassuring hand on Duke’s shoulder. Duke watched the way he interacted with the others when they came and went for patrols, and found that Bruce was the same way with most of them. Dick had smiled at him one night and told Duke that he’d known Bruce longer than anyone except Alfred, and that he had never been a demonstrative person. Dick assured him that Bruce was proud, even if he stumbled over the words to say so himself.

On the bright side, the end of his first two months of training saw Duke cleared for an actual patrol.

He had gone out with Bruce before, shadowing his investigations and offering insight where he could, but this was going to be his first time flying solo in the city. His training was stepped up in preparation, and expanded to include problem-solving with faulty equipment and flash assessments of various constructed scenes to make sure he knew when to call for backup or whether or not a criminal was likely to be armed. Bruce even made him disassemble and reassemble his grapnel gun until he could practically trouble shoot the device in his sleep; the last thing he needed was a bad jump line at 20 stories up.

Normally only two or three people were on patrol at a time, but for Duke’s first night out nearly the whole family turned up in the Cave. Dick told him how great he was going to be and offered tips on how to spot a shaky fire escape, Tim couldn’t stop talking about decrypting networks on the fly, and even Damian admitted that his costume was “appropriately menacing” before informing him that most people could get along fine with a broken arm or two. Steph came to the Cave, although she wasn’t cleared to go out on her own yet, and Duke was startled when even Batwoman and Oracle appeared on the computer’s main screen to wish him well. Jason didn’t show, but that was hardly a surprise; he maintained his own territory and ran his own patrols without contacting the Cave unless there was real trouble. When it was time to go out, Cass stayed with Duke until they reached familiar rooftops and gave him a hug before taking off to her assigned district.

Despite his initial reservations about the heights from which everyone else jumped as though the ground didn’t exist at all, Duke settled quickly into a rhythm and soon found that he was entirely comfortable--maybe even having _fun_ . It was an easy night by any measure, but he was glad for the chance to test his wings without any big-name costume types to worry about. He broke up a mugging in the Narrows and walked the victim home once the two attackers were down for the count and secured for the police. He managed to diffuse a fight outside a bar with just the _threat_ of Bat-related enforcement, then followed up by stopping a robbery a few blocks over. Tim kept checking with him over the comms, but no one was babysitting him--or if they were, they were doing it quietly enough that Duke couldn’t tell. He appreciated that.

Midnight passed, then one, and Bruce gave the all-clear for everyone to head home. Dick and Cass had handled some sort of trouble down by the docks, but otherwise everyone seemed to have had a similarly light duty. They chatted animatedly over the comms as they all collected their various vehicles; Duke had stashed his bike in the same carefully locked garage near the bridge as Tim, and they rode back to the manor together.

He may have been tired the next day at school, but exhaustion and exhilaration did make it easier to ignore the constant and unpleasant feeling of being watched and found wanting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now have the rest of this story planned out! I'll be posting the last three chapters all in one go once they're finished, so it may take a little longer for the next update. I hope it's worth the wait!


	5. Chapter 5

“It’s just… I don’t know, it’s just  _ weird _ ,” said Duke, scowling down at his milkshake. 

Isabella was working, but he’d finally managed to find a day to meet up with Riko in the city. He’d had to change in a Starbucks before he could face getting on the bus, unwilling to be seen in the Highland uniform off campus, but now that he was downtown again he felt like the whole thing had been a mistake. He couldn’t really talk to Riko; he couldn’t tell her what he was doing these days, or how he was really spending his time. As far as she could know, he had been placed in the best foster home in all of Gotham and was getting a fancy education. What could he possibly complain about?

Riko smiled encouragingly, and it made him feel worse. They had been  _ Robins _ together, how could he keep secrets from her?

“Hey, whatever it is I know you can handle it, Duke. You’re the  _ best _ , and don’t let any weird polo-playing rich kid tell you otherwise!” She paused, her eyes widening. “Do they actually play polo there? Like, the kind with horses?”

Duke snorted. “Not that I’ve seen. But maybe they don’t let city kids in the stables.”

\---

Midterms at Highland Academy came and went, bringing a fresh wave of uncomfortable focus to Duke. 

Despite the additional hours spent on patrol, he was keeping well ahead of his school work; as Dr. Thompkins had said once, his grades at the previous three schools had not been a reflection of his potential. Outside incentives didn’t hold much interest for him, but he took pride in doing well and if anything, the unpleasant doubt of his classmates made him more determined to succeed. When his third period Chemistry teacher announced that he had the highest midterm score in the class, he couldn’t help but grin smugly at a boy named Travis who had tried to insist that he shouldn’t even  _ be _ in the Honors chem class.

Steph was overjoyed with Duke’s success, and insisted that he would have to help her figure out their last lab because she may have accidentally dropped a few test tubes and pretended nothing happened. She told Tim and Cullen about it over lunch, and they both joined in on congratulating Duke. The trouble was that no matter how proud his new friends were of his success, they seemed to be the only ones at the school who felt that way.

People shouldered past him in the halls even when there was plenty of room. Every day, someone was sitting in the seat he’d had the day before when he got to class. If he was too slow gathering up his books at the end of the period, someone’s bag would knock them all off his desk. It was always an  _ accident _ , but he always knew it wasn’t. He kept his head down, no matter how badly he wanted to punch Travis and the rest of them in the jaw. He had to be  _ better _ than that.

Maybe the stress of being  _ better _ was getting to him, though; when they got back to the manor in the afternoon he had started going straight to his own room and staying there until it was time to go down to the Cave. Tim could obviously tell that something was eating at him, but Duke didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to admit to struggling with what should have been positive changes in his life, and he didn’t want to have to explain to Tim why he felt so off-balance at school. Tim didn’t get it, and Duke found that just trying to imagine explaining it with a Tim-approved level of thoroughness was exhausting. 

\---

Duke shouldn’t have been surprised to run into the Red Hood on patrol a few nights later. He’d deviated from his route chasing down a mugger, and only when he put in the anonymous tip to 911 about someone who just happened to be zip-tied to a streetlight did he realize he was all the way down by Park Row. It said something about the confidence the uniform instilled that he had crossed the streets his parents had warned him not to even  _ look _ at without a second thought, but he was eager to get back to his own territory once the police were on their way.

Red Hood found him first, of course. Duke had just hit the roof on a 5-story apartment that was high enough to get a jump line on the back of a nearby billboard--it claimed that the Narrows was an up and coming neighborhood--when he heard a digitally distorted voice. He thought it was in his comm, but he turned to check behind him anyways. Hood was crouched behind a chimney stack, clearly keeping an eye on the alley below, and turned to offer a lazy salute to Duke. It was impossible to make out any expression behind the flat gloss of his helmet, but his body language was relaxed.

“Hey new kid. How’s the street treating you tonight?” he asked.

Duke tried not sigh. He was getting really sick of the nickname. “Just dropping off a mugger. I’ll be out of your hair in five.”

“No need to rush,” said Hood, standing up and stretching. “Looks like my mafiosos got the message and called off their meeting, and the last gang fight ended in half a dozen blown out kneecaps. I don’t think they’ll be organizing another party for a couple weeks at least.”

“Well, then, I should back to Dockside and make sure everything’s quiet over there,” said Duke.

“Yeah, alright, duty calls and all that. But hey, you’ve had some long nights. You want some takeout when you’re done sweeping up the docks, I know a great place in the East End. Best wontons you ever had.”

Duke stared at him for a moment, glad that his visor hid his expression too. “Uh, yeah, sure. That sounds… that sounds great, actually.”

\---

Duke did his sweep of the docks, turning up some kids getting high behind a burned-out warehouse and confiscating their stash. He dumped it in the river, but let the kids go with a stern, bat-shaped warning. He hoped that would be enough. They were younger than him. He called in to the Cave to let everyone know he was fine, but that he’d be back late. Nothing to worry about.

He realized that he didn’t know where in the East End to meet Jason, but as it turned out he didn’t have to worry about that. He had gotten used to the feeling of being watched, since intense surveillance seemed to be how his new ‘family’ showed that they cared. Jason was clearly not as far removed from the rest as he tried to look. He caught up with Duke about three roofs past Masters Street as though they’d planned it, then led him a few blocks deeper into his own turf. It was two o’clock, and the streets were empty of anyone who wasn’t sleeping on them. Everything under the yellow streetlights was still.

Jason finally stopped on top of a building with the remains of an abandoned pigeon loft on the roof and invited Duke to join him on a bench up against the mesh wall of the old coop. He deactivated the security on his helmet and unlatched the catch at the back, sighing as it depressurized with a hiss and then dropping it between his feet. Duke retracted his visor as well and set his own helmet down next to it, more carefully. Jason turned and grinned.

“You okay, kiddo?”

“Yeah, of course,” Duke lied, still feeling a little off-balance about the whole situation. “It’s been an easy night.”

“Not the patrol--I mean, you know, the whole thing. The house. School. Training. Work. It’s a lot to take on.” Jason wasn’t looking directly at him, but it was clear that he was keeping Duke in his peripheral. 

Duke’s shoulders stiffened, and he frowned. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he said, bristling slightly.

Jason just laughed. “Of course not. B can be a real asshole, but he wouldn’t throw you in the deep end without at least being  _ reasonably _ sure you could swim. But it is tough. Trust me, I know. I’m gonna go grab the food. Back in a flash.”

Jason went from totally still to down the fire escape in about three seconds, and Duke was starting to think he needed to take more precautions against whiplash in his new life. He wondered if Jason lived nearby; he knew Tim and Dick both maintained a series of bolt-holes around the city, but they both had nicer, more permanent homes elsewhere. From what he’d gathered around the Cave Jason lived full-time in the thick of things. 

Duke barely had time to wonder if this was all an elaborate prank of some kind before Jason was back, swinging over the top of the fire escape ladder with a bag hanging from his wrist. He’d zipped his jacket up and done something with his holsters, and the result was a surprisingly normal look. Jason grinned and sat back down, putting the bag on the roof between their helmets. He started pulling paper boxes and styrofoam containers out and handing them to Duke.

“You know, the color schemes are all very striking--I like the yellow, it’s really sharp--but there’s a  _ lot _ to be said for a uniform that passes for civvies in a pinch,” said Jason. “When Wonderbread wants a pizza at the end of the night, he has to spend ten minutes trying to convince everyone that nothing’s wrong before he can order.”

Duke couldn’t help but laugh. They broke into the food and he was a little startled to find that Jason had been absolutely right--it was  _ fantastic _ . He almost felt bad thinking that when Alfred’s cooking was top-notch as well, but there was something special about really great takeout after a long night. It was exactly what he’d wanted even though he hadn’t known he was craving it; delicious, but also  _ normal _ .

“So,” said Jason after a few minutes of silence. “Finding your way around the house alright?”

“Yeah, like I said, it’s fine,” Duke answered with a shrug. “Big place, but not bad.”

“I moved in just before halloween, you know, and I was  _ absolutely certain _ that damn place was haunted. Turned out to be mostly squirrels and bad lighting. Well, and the Cave. That shit’s creepy all year round.”

“Jason?” asked Duke after a few minutes of silence, “Why did you invite me up here?”

“Because I wanted to get you to dish on Timbo. He’s driving me nuts and I want something to hold over him,” Jason answered without missing a beat. After a moment, he shrugged and looked away, looking almost… uncomfortable.

“Well, no. I just… I thought you might be having a rough time adjusting. I remember what it was like. It’s a whole other world out there.”

Duke watched Jason, curious about what brought on these sudden changes in mood, the way his tone shifted sometimes. He ate a wonton.

“I must have thrown together half a dozen go bags before it settled in that I really was going to get to  _ stay _ ,” Jason continued, looking out over the city. “There’s probably still a couple duffles full of t-shirts and stale chips hidden around the manor.”

“I’ll have to look for those,” said Duke, and he caught himself smiling at the thought of 15-year-old Jason Todd stealing snacks out of the pantry and stashing them in the planters. It was a bit tragic, but also a lot funny. “The house is fine, though. School sucks, but when doesn’t school suck?”

“They got you at one of those fancy prep schools, right? That one Burgers and Fries is going to?”

“Highland Academy. Yeah.”

“Sounds like a horrible place. Do they play polo on the lawns?”

Duke laughed. “You’re the second person to ask me that. No, they just raise entitled assholes to stay that way.”

“That sounds about right,” said Jason, nodding. “You don’t need me telling you you’re better than they think you are, but I’ll say it anyways; kids are jealous little shits, even without the added bullshit. And any time you need a breather from the silver spoon crowd you’re welcome down here--we’ve got a couple of great pizza places, too, and there’s a crime or ten to beat into submission every night of the week if you’re feeling a little pent up.”

Duke couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient, guys! I've had a lot of rough stuff going on in my life lately, but I did finally manage to wrap this story up.


	6. Chapter 6

Despite his best efforts to keep his chin up and ignore his fellow students and their quiet but ongoing campaign of harassment, Duke was getting extremely tired of being the better person. He had learned who the main rumormongers were, and started trying to avoid them in the halls just to make his life easier; they, of course, interpreted this as a victory and made a game of interrupting anything he might try to do between periods or during study hall by sitting down nearby and shooting him a snide look. 

Cullen noticed right away, but it didn’t seem to get under his skin the way it did for Duke. Whatever he’d been through at his previous schools--a topic he was loathe to discuss under any circumstances--he was clearly resigned to this kind of whisper campaign and was well-equipped to endure it without complaint.

Finals were rounding the corner when the tension finally hit a breaking point.

Duke was walking back to his locker after study hall to grab his American Literature notes when he found four of his least favorite people turning their scorn on someone else for a change. They had a boy Duke recognized as a sophomore--his name might have been Matt, but Duke wasn’t sure--boxed in near the east stairwell, and were demanding that he give them something from his bag. Duke could have gone around to another hallway, but he was sick of letting their bullshit slide. He squared his shoulders and walked straight at the group.

“Oh look, it’s our second favorite scholarship pity case,” drawled a tall girl named Tiffany. “Don’t you have an exam to cheat on, Thomas?”

Duke frowned, but didn’t dignify the question with a response or stop walking until he was at Matt’s shoulder, close enough to defend him if it came down to a fight. After so many months of work in the Cave the move was automatic, but he kept his hands relaxed at his sides.

“Don’t you have anything better to do then pretend you’re better than other people?” Duke asked quietly. Tiffany looked angry for a moment, but everyone else laughed.

“Pretend? You mean the way you  _ pretend _ you’re going to amount to something, Thomas?”

Duke didn’t respond. He stayed still by Matt’s shoulder, fixing a boy named Robert with the hard, still gaze he’d seen Bruce use a thousand times. Matt ducked his head nervously, obviously looking for an escape.

“Is this really how you spend all your time?” Duke asked, keeping his voice even by sheer force of will. “Bullying people who have the audacity to succeed on their own? Does it make you feel important, pretending you’re not jealous of someone you think is beneath you? Where I’m standing, it’s pretty transparent--not to mention pathetic.”

Travis, the oldest of the group, scowled and started to lunge toward Matt, who flinched back, but Duke stood his ground. He could tell it was all for show; Cass had taught him how to watch criminals for that same kind of hesitation, explained how to tell when they were scared to act but more afraid of looking weak.

“You’re all lucky your parents bail you out when you get in trouble,” Duke went on, proud of how clearly his voice carried and how little it wavered. “Because you’re nowhere near smart enough to make it on your own.”

Travis actually did throw a punch at that, but Duke took just barely half a step back to stay out of range without so much as slouching. He just stood there, straight-backed and calm. He heard a bell ringing from down the hall and the unmistakable sound of footsteps. The student body at Highland didn’t thunder like the public schools, but they still had to get around and in the space of just a few breaths--while Tiffany tried to think of something clever to say, no doubt--the first few students came down the stairs and ran head-on into the scene.

A group of upperclassmen stopped short just a few yards away, their obvious leader glancing over Duke and the rest with a curious frown.

“What’s going on?” he asked. He was a lacrosse player, by the patch on his bag, but Duke had never found him involved in anything unpleasant.

“Just creepy cheating  _ Thomas _ trying to--” Travis started, but the other boy interrupted him.

“Cheating? Sure you're not talking about yourself, Travis? Last I heard, you were buying all your essays online,” he said, punctuating with a chuckle that would have gone over perfectly at a Wayne Gala. “You two okay?” he asked, looking over at Duke and Matt.

Duke offered a taut smile. “He couldn’t hurt us if he tried. All talk.”

The lacrosse player laughed again, then walked over and clapped Duke on the shoulder. “You’ve got that right, kid.” he said. That was when Tim came around the corner from the other side, and Duke could see his eyes darting to take in the finer details of the tableau. He knew the steps; asses the situation, identify the aggressors, remove their ability to cause harm.

“This has been fun, Travis, but you’re done,” said Duke, holding eye contact again. “Why don’t you try actually reading a book for a change, instead of just harassing people you know are smarter than you?”

He could see Tim grin from halfway down the hall, but as he walked away--steering Matt by the shoulder to remove him from range--he couldn’t help but feel that he’d probably made things worse. At least for the moment Matt was out of harm’s way. He was thanking Duke under his breath, but looked nervous and flinched away when Duke took the hand off his shoulder. Duke felt like he’d swallowed a rock; he’d tried to help, and only made the person he was helping uncomfortable. Matt scurried away almost immediately, but Tim quickly stepped into his space to clap Duke on the shoulder.

“That was great! You should have seen the look on Robert’s face--”

“Thanks,” said Duke, but his voice sounded hollow even to him. “But I definitely just painted an even bigger target on my back. Probably that kid’s, too. I gotta get to class--see you later.”

\---

Duke managed to avoid talking to Tim on the drive home thanks to Damian’s endless list of complaints about his school, which he felt the need to repeat to Alfred at least once or twice a week. When they reached the manor he tried to duck into his own room like he’d been doing for weeks, but Tim caught him by the wrist as soon as Alfred and Damian disappeared down the hall that led eventually to the kitchen. He let go again as soon as Duke turned, frowning, and glanced uncertainly to the side.

“Duke, can we talk?” Tim asked.

“Yeah, of course,” answered Duke, trying to sound casual. 

He let Tim lead him through the labyrinthine house to a seldom used study that looked out over the gardens-- _ neutral ground, _ his training told him. A less volatile venue, the kind of thing to be sought out for a negotiation. There were a few stacks of papers on the desk, but instead of business figures or printed out charts they looked like some of Damian’s drawings. Tim closed the door behind them, then looked up at Duke and sighed.

“Look, I know you’ve been avoiding me,” said Tim, cutting off Duke’s protest that he hadn’t been  _ avoiding _ him, “But I’m your friend. If something’s bothering you, I want to help. And it’s really obvious that something’s bothering you.”

Duke leaned back against the edge of the heavy desk, and just because he recognized the steady, focused Bat-stare didn’t mean it wasn’t working. He looked away first, but held his shoulders square.

“Yeah, okay, school’s bothering me. I just… I kind of feel like those kids are  _ right _ . Maybe I don’t belong there. The rest of you guys, you’re here for good--but eventually, my parents are going to get better and I’m going to go back to my old life. I’m not going to be a politician or run a major corporation or whatever it is a prep school is really prepping you for. And even if they were wrong, the whole environment reinforces their opinions and their shitty behavior--no one is going to call them out. They’re just going to keep getting away with it for the rest of their lives. And I’m  _ tired _ of having to be twice as good to get half the credit.”

Duke took a breath and looked out the window, watching the thin trail of a plane miles overhead.

“I just need to figure out a way to cope with this, alright? It’s not like I’m gonna be there forever.”

“I’m not saying you can’t handle it,” said Tim, shifting to sit in a chair a few yards away. “I’m saying you don’t have to go it alone. I know I… Look, I know I don’t  _ get _ it. I’ve had kids at school who didn’t like me, but it was always over something I’d done. I’ve never had anybody treat me badly because of who I am--or what I look like, or anything like that. And I’ve been trying to understand, but it’s probably better if I just own up and tell you that I don’t really understand. But that doesn’t mean I’m not here for you, okay?”

Duke caught himself staring. “That… that really means a lot to me, actually,” he said quietly, summoning up a smile. For Tim, admitting to ignorance was almost unthinkable. “Admitting that you don’t… it kinda sounds like you  _ do _ get it, actually. In a way. But I still need to figure out a way to navigate it for myself, you know?”

“That’s your call,” said Tim, quick to nod. “But know that we’ve all got your back, okay? Whatever you need. And if what you need is time to yourself, I promise I won’t intercept you on the way to your room again, okay?” He smiled slightly.

Duke laughed. “It’s okay. Maybe what I need is to try something new.”

\---

Duke was fully expecting some fallout after his confrontation with Travis and the others, but he wasn’t expecting it to come quite so soon. He had hoped to simply avoid the group for a little while, but the very next day after lunch they found him again. Tim and Steph had just started up the stairs to their next class when Travis, and Tiffany pushed through a scattering of other students to approach Duke. 

Duke stood still, resisting the urge to sigh, as Travis shoved a younger girl out of the way and crowded right up into his space. Cullen shrank back, but Duke just looked calmly up at Travis. It was obvious that he was still mad; there was visible tension in Travis’s neck and shoulders, but he didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. He had probably always gotten by on intimidation and snide looks alone.

“You must think you’re pretty clever,  _ Thomas _ ,” Travis snarled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Duke, frowning. “I need to get to class.”

“You’re a pathetic coward,” Travis snapped, “Acting like some big shot around losers like  _ Row _ and that kid from yesterday, but you’re just trying to sneak by on some bullshit  _ diversity _ thing.” Travis curled his hands into halfhearted fists. Training with Cass had taught Duke how to watch people, and he knew immediately that Travis would never actually throw a punch. He was probably trying to provoke Duke into starting something instead. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“That’s a nice little story you’re telling yourself, but I don’t need to cheat to do well and the only loser I see here is you,” said Duke, keeping his shoulders squared but his body language calm.

“You don’t belong here, you worthless--”

“Hey,” a voice interrupted from behind Duke. He turned and saw the lacrosse player from the day before standing a few yards down the hall. He was walking with a group of friends who all looked very curious to see why he was interested in intervening. “What’s going on, Travis?”

Travis all but snarled, drawing his shoulders up and looking wildly around. His own friends were clearly outnumbered now.

“I was just--this  _ city kid _ thinks he can make me look bad and--”

“Make you look bad?” the lacrosse player laughed. “You do that all on your own, Travis. What makes you think it’s okay to be so shitty to people?” His friends joined him in laughing, and Duke felt himself smiling just slightly. The older boy walked over to him with a relaxed grin.

“I’m Andy. I don’t think we’ve met properly,” he said, holding out a hand. Duke turned to take it, ignoring Travis entirely.

“Duke. Nice to meet you, Andy.”

Andy nodded. “Listen, we all need to get to class, but you’re cool.  We should hang out some time. Don’t let idiots like Travis be the benchmark for Highland, okay?”

Travis looked gutted, staring after Andy as he and his friends headed off down the hall. Duke took the opportunity to get off to his own classroom, Cullen following closely and smiling. Turning his back on his would-be tormentor, Duke actually felt a bubble of hope in his chest. He had felt like everyone was in on it--like the whole school was watching him, waiting for him to screw something up. When no one else spoke up, it seemed like they were agreeing.

Even just a few people making it clear that they didn’t agree made a world of difference.   
  


\---

The line of cars picking up students crept slowly along as Duke met up with Tim, Steph, and Cullen in front of the building at the end of the day. Alfred had already let Tim know that he was running late following an ‘incident’ with Damian and another boy at his school, so they sat down in the grass under a tree to wait.

“Hey Duke--Matt Sinclair told me about how you helped him out yesterday,” said Steph, smiling. “That was really cool of you.”

Duke couldn’t help but smile. “Just doing the right thing. Justice, fairness, all that good stuff.”

Steph laughed. “Well, yeah, but it’s still cool. I heard him talking about it after pre-calc, it really meant a lot to him.”

Cullen and Tim agreed, and Duke couldn’t help but feel a bit more hopeful. Maybe he was finally finding his footing at Highland.

“Hey, you guys wanna go see a movie tonight maybe?” asked Cullen. Steph practically bounced in place, nodding eagerly.

“Yeah, let’s do it!” she agreed. Tim nodded as well, but then turned to look at Duke, cocking a brow and waiting for his answer.

Duke grinned. “Yeah, let’s do that. Sounds like fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! I'll probably keep writing in this setting, but I don't have anything particular in mind right now. I do welcome suggestions, though!


End file.
